Behind Cooper, Eli pulled himself to standing and hopped gracefully off the couch, shook himself in a very doglike manner, and slipped out of the room. Cooper could hear him going up the stairs. “You’re not having an affair with her, then?”

Neil laughed loudly and stood. Cooper hastily did the same, uncomfortable with looking up at him. “An affair? What, do you think I’m protecting her out of some kind of chivalry? Come now, bright boy, you know me better than that.”

“So explain it to me. What am I missing? Because what it looks like is you’re sleeping with a woman you’re investigating for embezzlement, and the only words I keep hearing out of your mouth is look into Arthur Crane.”

Neil took a couple steps closer so they were standing face to face. His eyes traveled up and down Cooper’s body. “I recognize this,” he said, reaching out to run a single finger beneath the satin lapel without touching Cooper’s body. “Didn’t I buy it for you?”

“No,” Cooper said shortly, jerking away.

“Mmm. Regardless, I recognize it. You needed it for that Stevens case. Do you remember the party they had? The ridiculous yacht thing?”

Cooper did, actually. Or more so, he remembered how Neil had gotten angry at him that night for some nonsense reason and used shitty, unsatisfying sex against him for the next week. That had been near the end. The first end anyway, when he’d asked to get out of undercover.

“The whole thing was packed with trust fund babes, blood money and weapons smuggling. But you got right into their heads. Abso-fucking-lutely clueless at the tailor the day before. Couldn’t even guess your own inseam, but five minutes studying these vultures and you knew them inside out. Could put them on like masks.”

“It’s your game. You taught it to me.”

“I thought I did. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?” Neil asked. He was practically whispering now—a strange new frantic edge to his voice—and glanced in the direction Eli had disappeared. “Can—is there anyone else here?”

Cooper wondered what would happen if he said no. “Why?”

“I want to know what you’re planning,” Neil murmured urgently under his breath. “I can help. We can work together, just like old times.”

“I don’t want it to be like old times,” Cooper said. He didn’t mean to sound quite so horrified, but. Well.

“Not exactly like that,” Neil agreed hastily. “Better. I’m sorry for the way things were between us. The truth is, I resented how much I wanted you. I hated you for the way you made me feel. Inferior. Desperate. Trapped. But I understand now. I get it, and you can trust me.”